


when I am no longer harmless

by 11paruline44



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Bloodbending (Avatar), F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 05:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14561967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/11paruline44/pseuds/11paruline44
Summary: Zuko gets a bit curious about bloodbending at Ember Island and asks Katara to do it gently on him. A little angst ensues. Oneshot. POV: Katara





	when I am no longer harmless

**Author's Note:**

> This has probably been done before, lol, but I'm new to the fandom and this is how I imagined the two working out some of the things left buried after the Southern Raiders. Since Zuko's really the only understanding person Katara can talk to about her demons, and Katara never really addressed her feelings about bloodbending, I thought this was the best way for her to settle the matter/let go of some of her guilt. Editing/character suggestions welcomed. Thanks!

I hadn’t seen much of Zuko since we’d settled at Ember Island two days ago. It made sense, with Sozin’s comet approaching, but I started to wonder if he really needed to practice firebending with Aang so constantly. Some part of me, perhaps the one that was still recovering from the search for Yon Rha, missed his quiet, non-judgmental support. I’d never admit it, but I was starting to realize that no matter how many times I told my brother, or Aang, or even Suki I didn’t want to talk about it, I was lying. But it wasn’t really them I wanted to talk to.

I guess got my chance to unearth the topic again soon enough—but it wasn’t in the way I’d had in mind.

It had started pleasantly enough. I’d gone to the kitchen at twilight, when everyone else was settling into their beds. Since I’d been having trouble sleeping, I thought I’d have a cup of soothing tea first. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one, as no sooner had I grabbed a teacup from one of the cupboards, I turned and found myself rammed headfirst into Zuko’s chest. I jumped back and gave a little shriek, dropping my teacup in the process. Despite Zuko’s own start of surprise, he recovered quickly enough to reach down and catch the teacup, fumbling with it a little in his hands before placing it awkwardly on a nearby table. His gaze lingered for a moment on the teacup, hand still hovering nearby as to make certain it was safe, before his eyes turned to mine. They were still surprised, though now they held a little more apology. He wasn’t dismayed to see me, though, I couldn’t help but note with a little wayward satisfaction.

“Sorry!” we both blurted at the same time. Zuko broke eye contact first and lifted an arm to search his head. “You can be rather quiet. I-I didn’t think you’d be down here at this time of night. I mean, not that I always am, I just…” he trailed off with a shrug, seemingly giving up on what he was going to say.

I thought about teasing him for a moment, but it just didn’t feel right. Maybe I was too tired. I turned away to rummage through the kitchen before I finally found the teakettle and hung it over the stove. Wordlessly, Zuko lit the fire before I could find a pair of spark rocks. The tea on its way, I settled into a chair by the table and rested my head on my elbow. Zuko hovered for a moment behind the the chair beside it, seeming to contemplate whether or not sitting down invaded my privacy, before settling on standing with his hands resting on the back of the chair. For some reason, this irritated me.

“So, what are you doing down here, anyway,” I grumbled.

There was a pause. “I couldn’t sleep,” Zuko admitted.

“Me either,” I sighed, annoyance passing away before I had time to latch onto it or remember why it was there. “I thought I’d make some tea to calm my mind.”

Zuko smiled. “My uncle would be proud,” he said. “I never quite understood his fascination with tea, but I guess he was right. Whenever we had tea together, I felt a lot better.” Zuko’s fingers drummed a little on the back of the chair as he stared off into space.

“You miss him, don’t you,” I murmured.

Zuko’s shoulders tensed as he gripped his chair, but he said nothing. For a while, all was still. I could hear the faint drone of the fire nation bugs outside, a noise that I wasn’t used to yet still was somehow calming. The light from the stove fire flickered on Zuko’s back, leaving his face in shadow. He still had plenty of pain of his own to sort out. I found myself hoping, somewhere in the back of my mind, that when he was ready he’d share it with me. But for now, I just sat in the comfortable stillness. I wondered when I’d become the kind of person that liked silence.

Then, of course, Zuko had to ruin the moment.

“That thing you did back there—when were chasing the man who...you know...and we thought we’d found the man, but we didn’t… anyway… what was that?” Zuko suddenly had the nerve to ask.

I bristled. “What?”

Zuko gave me a helpless look. “You know what I’m talking about.”

I narrowed my eyes. “None of your beeswax, jerkbender.”

Zuko’s face fell. “I was just—I’m sorry, I—“ he spluttered.

I folded my arms. He was making me feel guilty, like the unreasonable one, with that annoying little confused baby seal routine he did. I hated it when he did that. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“That—that—“ I made an aimless gesture towards his visage, but it was still all twisted up in that innocent and hurt stare. I made a noise somewhere between a huff and a growl and returned my arms to folded position.

Then, before I could stop myself, I actually told him.

“Bloodbending.” It was barely a whisper, but it made me recoil just the same as soon as I realized what I’d said. Hama’s twisted, feral parting words echoed in my mind, as they always did, as if on cue. _Congratulations, Katara. You’re a bloodbender._

I risked a glance at Zuko’s face. He looked mildly concerned, but not repulsed. I wanted to be annoyed, but instead I just kept going.

“I—I promised I’d never do it again. Never. Because then she’d be right, and I’d be no better than she was, a...a horrible, terrible person who kept people like simple playthings and made them do things they didn’t want to and—“ I bit my lip to keep myself from crying. “But I did do it again. I saw that man and I was so angry and then I just let myself practice her evil form of bending on him and I—“

“It’s not evil,” Zuko interrupted.

I whipped my head around in surprise.

“What?” I almost shouted.

Zuko straightened from his staring-off-into-space position to look me in the eye, unwavering. “The dragons taught me that no form of bending is inherently evil. When I saw how much fire had hurt people, I started to think it was bad, and that the only way to use it was to give into negative emotions, like rage and pain. They showed me that fire is also an element of life.”

“This is different!” I yelled, waving my arms. “You can’t seriously think—Zuko, she made Aang and Sokka hurt me, hurt each other. The she—“ I swallowed at the effort of allowing in the memory. “She turned it on me,” I continued, voice shaking. “I lost control of my own limbs. I felt her awful, angry will in my own body, and I watched myself almost—“ I choked, unsure if it was in grief or rage. “It’s the most violating feeling in the world. You’d never understand.”

“Then show me,” Zuko said quietly.

I stared, huffing as the anger drained from me, taking my breath with it. “What?”

Zuko stretched out his hand in front of me. “Do it to me. I want to feel it for myself.”

“No,” I said with as much force as I could muster. I started to storm down the hallway, back to my chambers or something, when the teakettle began to whistle. Barely changing my pace, I strode to the kettle and began preparing the tea, perhaps only to give my hands something to do. I didn’t feel like drinking tea now.

Slowly, Zuko crept behind me, steps hesitant. I stirred my tea harder. I couldn’t look at him, because I knew that if I did, he would be making that face again.

“I didn’t mean to upset you—“

“Well, you did,” I snapped. “Congratulations.” _Congratulations,_ Hama’s voice echoed in my head. I ignored it.

“Katara—“

I whirled around. “I said no, so give it up!”

I realized my mistake too late. There were his amber eyes, locked in my gaze, pleading with me to let him know what he did wrong, so he could fix it and make it right. There were those eyes, so soft around the edges in ways that betrayed their familiarity with anguish.

“I’m sorry, Katara. I won’t ask you again, I promise. I thought—well, it doesn’t matter what I thought, I–“

I placed my teacup down on the counter and held out my hands in one swift motion. Slowly, it dawned on Zuko what I meant. He looked from my outstretched hands back to my gaze. “Are you sure?” he whispered.

I nodded, swallowing to keep down the surge of emotions within me. If he wanted me to do this, I’d have to do it now, because I was pretty sure I’d change my mind, go back to being the ever-reasonable, rational Katara if I just thought it through. But right now, I didn’t want to think it through. Right now, I… well, that was another feeling I could sort out later.

Zuko held out his hand, a little haltingly. At least he did have a bit of a healthy fear of the practice, I noted, a slight bitter taste in my mouth. I closed my eyes and focused on becoming aware of the water around me. At first I felt it in myself, swishing around to the pumping of my heart, and I felt the pull of the moon in my gut, a reminder of the source of my strength. Then I became aware of more moving water nearby, swishing to the beat of another heartbeat. I opened my eyes and, with the gentle wave of a hand, placed the blood in Zuko’s hand under my control. I heard him take a sharp breath in response, but he said nothing. Heart heavy, I slowly bent his fingers, one by one, into his palm and back again. Each one felt like a new wave of pain in my gut. And then, unbidden, my mind flashed back to that horrible night with Hama.

I felt myself seize her again, watched as her limbs did my bidding, felt a sick feeling rise within me. Then her laughter filled my ears. _You’re a bloodbender._

I jerked back, releasing my hold on Zuko’s hand in a sudden way that must have been painful. I stumbled and half collapsed on the weight of the counter as a sudden sadness and desperation coursed through me. This time, I couldn’t prevent it. I started sobbing hard, unable to feel anything except the weight in my stomach. But gradually, I became aware again of my surroundings, and to my surprise, though not in the least in an unpleasant way, I felt two strong arms encircling me. Grateful, I buried my face in Zuko’s shoulder and waited until my normal breathing returned.

Finally, I pulled away and picked up my tea from the counter behind me, sipping it lightly to avoid looking in Zuko’s eyes, though I could tell he was avoiding mine just the same.

After a pause, I spoke. “I’m sorry you had to feel that.” I shut my eyes. “It felt awful, didn’t it.”

Zuko stirred. “Ummm…”

“What?” I opened my eyes to fix him with a stare.

He shrugged. “It kind of… tickled.” He averted his gaze, embarrassed.

Despite myself, I gave a short guffaw. “Yeah, right,” I scoffed.

“No, really,” he said in his earnest way. “It wasn’t that bad. I mean, yeah,” he rubbed his palm, “it didn’t feel so good when you jerked away—“

“No kidding,” I muttered.

“But it wasn’t like what you were describing, it just…”

I elbowed him lightly. He dropped his hands in a dramatic gesture. “Oh, fine, what do you want me to say?”

“The truth?”

He sighed in a put-upon way. “I told you. You’re making this out to be worse than it is.”

“I’m not exaggerating!”

Zuko glowered. “Yes, you are, you always exaggerate everything!”

“Oh, yeah, well, so do you!”

“No I don’t!”

“Then what do you call your little obsession with honor, huh? ‘I’ll never regain my honor until I capture the Avatar, woe is me—‘“

“That was a year ago!”

“Oh really? Ba Sing Se was a lot more recent than that!”

We stood scowling at each other for a moment. As I stared into his hard-set amber eyes, I suddenly couldn’t remember what I was mad about. I huffed and sipped my tea.

Only then did it start to sink in. Zuko had experienced my bloodbending, and it had changed nothing. He wasn’t afraid of me. He wasn’t angry—well, not truly, since this sort of scuffle was, admittedly, normal. He treated me as exactly the same person as he had before. I met his eyes again. The softness and uncertainty in his eyes reflected mine.

Just then, there was a rapping noise coming from the door. Zuko and I started like we’d been struck.

“Hate to break it up, but there are some of us trying to sleep,” my brother’s groggy voice drawled. “If there’s really anything between you two that worth shouting about, leave it to the morning, willya?” With that, Sokka shuffled back to bed.

Zuko gave a sheepish look around the kitchen and started to follow Sokka.

“Wait,” I said.

Zuko turned to look at me, all ears. I didn’t know what to say, so I spluttered a little, until the words “thank you” came out of my mouth.

Zuko seemed genuinely surprised. “What for?”

“For everything,” I said simply.

Zuko shuffled a little and ruffled his hair. “All I did was upset you,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have pushed it—“

“No, thank you.” I grabbed his wrists and looked him in the eye. He looked back, his wounded seal look melting into one that almost appeared—happy. For Zuko.

To me, that was all that mattered. “Come on,” I said. “Sokka’s probably right. We should get to bed.” I turned back to the kitchen, somewhat reluctantly, to put away my tea. Someone had to clean up after themselves.

“Well, I’ll, uh, see you in the morning, I guess,” Zuko’s voice said before his footsteps disappeared down the hallway.

Safe where he couldn’t see, I let out a smile.


End file.
